


The Sweeter Times

by Artemis_Day



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, First of Three Stories, Gen, Humor, Memory Loss, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Teenagers, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/Artemis_Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixteen year old Jane Foster is outside stargazing when a boy falls from the sky at her feet.  He's irritable, dressed funny, hot as all hell and apparently the Norse God of Mischief and Lies. Jane would've far preferred falling asleep outside again to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy Who Fell To Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Let me first say that this fic will not be updated for some time. I know I've said that before, but I'm serious this time, and I say that not only because I don't have any more of this written as of yet, but also because I have other stories that need to be finished that I've had going long before I was even aware that Marvel Comics had made Thor a superhero. They have to take precedence.
> 
> It's really only one story, one story that I am ten chapters away from finishing and want to get done as soon as possible. As of today, that fic is my top priority. I will of course update my primary Lokane fic, Lokiday, wherever I can, so don't worry about that. That story is NOT going on hiatus any time soon.
> 
> As for this story, it's a little idea I've had for a while and something I've never really seen done for this pairing, which is a shame, because I think it would be cute. Here's hoping I can do that right. This story, when it's officially started, will (probably) be ten chapters long. It is the first in a trilogy of stories, all of which will (probably) be ten chapters.
> 
> I can't say for sure when this will be continued. I posted it several weeks ago on my tumblr, but I wanted it here too as a sort of guarantee that I will complete it. I hope you like the first chapter and will look forward to more soon.
> 
> Ciao!

The moon was nearly full, trapped between it and the waxing gibbous phase.  Jane Foster had studied the moon’s phases extensively, and out of all of them, waxing gibbous was the one she looked forward to least.  On nights like this, she would sit outside her house, staring at the sky and all the little stars twinkling like fireflies.  She would try not to focus too much on the moon, or else she’d notice how very close it was to being full and how horribly uneven it looked in it's attempts to reach that final, pivotal phase.  She saw far too much of herself in that.  It had all the potential to become something great, something amazing and beautiful, but it always fell short.  Of course, in another two days it would become a full moon and she'd still be stuck on the ground with her dreams unreached for God only knows how long.  It might not have been that apt a comparison after all. 

Maybe she was just thinking too far ahead.  She was sixteen years old and barely into the new school year.  Most of her current goals went no further than finishing that book report on The Great Gatsby (a book she’d liked more than she thought she would), and passing biology with her head still attached to her shoulders.

Anyone who ever said high school got easier after your freshman year needed to either be dragged into the street and beaten or forced to relive all four years of high school repeatedly until the end of time.  Freshmen year had been all but a nightmare, and not just because of any personal tragedies Jane might have been dealing with at the time.  Sympathy from her peers had extended about as far as a few unwanted pep talks from her teachers (most of whom didn’t seem to have any idea how to talk to her) and a brief reprieve from the bullying a ‘geek’ like her might’ve otherwise been the target of.  Jane, always something of a loner, mostly kept to herself and her studies.  Sophomore year was just more of the same, with the addition of a few so-called 'popular' girls decided she was finally fair game and reminding her daily what a worthless dork she was.  Jane mostly just ignored them.

She was a junior now, passed the halfway point from start to finish, but still not feeling like she’d accomplished anything.  On some days, she’d pull out old report cards and read down the line of As with a small smattering of B pluses.  Science was the only subject to remain a perfect string of As from sixth grade on, something that had always been a source of great pride for her and her parents once upon a time.  (How many times had she walked in on them bragging about her to their friends?)  Sitting in the backyard on this chilly October night, with that depressing almost-moon in the sky, Jane was struck down with a gloomy feeling her streak was about to come to an end.

And it was all because of Mrs. Drangoon, her forty-something biology teacher with the thin framed glasses and the even thinner face, who could have been pretty if only she’d stop frowning and glaring at everyone she saw.  She was the reason Jane was outside in the first place, ignoring the mouth-watering smell of dinner that wafted out an open window.  It was pork chops tonight, one of her favorite foods in the world.  Too bad it wasn’t enough to bring her out of her funk.  Every time she almost felt better, she’d remember the crumpled up paper in her hand and the damning red marks all over it.

Jane lifted it back to her eyes, because she just loved torturing herself with the number on top.  72 percent, the lowest grade she had ever gotten on a science test.  Two days she’d spent studying the material.  It wasn’t even a facet of science she was particularly interested in, but she saw it through.  She memorized the reading and she did all the homework and the extra credit assignment and she went into class that day with a full night’s sleep and a healthy breakfast behind her… and all she’d gotten was a barely passing grade and one of Mrs. Drangoon’s trademark scowls that said, quite plainly, ‘You will never amount to anything in life, so why do you bother?’

Jane had some pretty distinct memories of the upperclassmen telling stories about Mrs. Drangoon.  Just last year, she'd been sitting in the lunch room alone at a fairly crowded table.  Two boys, one dark-skinned and the other light, took the remaining free seats just a small ways away from her.  The dark-skinned one had been right in the middle of a furious tirade.

“I can’t believe we got a D, after all that work!  And the way Drangoon was glaring at us-  _what is her problem?_   Does she hate black men or just men in general?”

His friend had been nodding along silently and shrugged off the question.  However, a girl sitting across from them with chewing gum in her mouth popped a rather large bubble and spoke up.

“Mrs. Drangoon is neither racist nor sexist,” the girl had said.  “She is equal opportunity.  She hates  _everyone._ ”

Six months later and Jane would have to agree.

With a truly pathetic groan, Jane crushed the paper over her face and let it slide down.  Her arm fell over the side of her lawn chair.  Her wrist brushed the caked on dirt and mud that kept the lawn chair rooted to the ground so tightly, Jane was positive it had been there even before the house was built.  She still had her fingers clamped around the paper.  Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to just drop it already.  Maybe later on she’d see if Garrett wanted to start a fire.  She had the perfect fuel for it.  If only she could bring herself to actually do it.

Behind her, the back door unlocked and slid open.

“Hey, Jane!” a male voice called out.  “What’s going on?  You ready to come in for dinner or are you still busy moping?”

Jane closed her eyes.  She could feel the blood rushing to her temples already.

“Garrett, for the thousandth time, I’m  _not_  moping.”  She rolled over and lifted herself halfway up to meet her cousin’s gaze.  “I’m just… thinking about things.”

“Oh please,” Garrett said with a snort.  “You’ve been out here for an hour and a half rubbing that test score all over your face in shame.  And for the record, I still say a 72 is a good grade.  I would’ve killed to get scores like that when I was in high school.”

“You weren’t a science student,” Jane argued.  “I am.  I can’t just settle for grades like this.”

“It’s just biology,” Garrett said with a shrug and an offhand wave at the sky.  “Aren’t you a star person or something?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Garrett!”

Her passion did little to faze him, as was often the case.  Sometimes, Jane wondered if her cousin was genetically hard wired to never lose his cool over anything, particularly her.  After living with him for two years, she wouldn’t be surprised.

“Well, come and eat once you’re out of this funk.  Try and make it fast, alright? I will not hesitate to eat your share.”

He walked back inside and Jane let herself fall back down.  Something soft tickled at the back of her neck, but when Jane turned around, there was nothing.  Not a gust of wind or a falling leaf.  She must have just imagined it.

The rubber strings had dipped lower from the all the weight on her knees and it was making her back hurt.  She adjusted positions a few times before giving up and going back to staring at the sky.  To get her mind off the problem at hand, she sought out familiar constellations.  The cloudless sky assured that none of them would be hidden from her sight.  She quickly found Aquarius; Pegasus was a little more difficult.  They were the only ones worth finding as far as Jane was concerned.  Maybe she would have looked for others if her mood had been a little better.  She traced the lines of the star groups, forming in her mind the shapes of the water bearer and the winged horse, shapes she knew like they were second nature.

It had the calming effect she had hoped for, but the void was quickly filled by the equally oppressive sense of boredom.  How many times had she done this?  Even when she didn’t have a rotten teacher breathing down her neck.  How often had she sat in this exact spot, looking at those same stars, dreaming of the day she had the means to trul understand them the way she longed to?  How long before fear and pessimism in the form of a little voice in her head that sounded way too much like Mrs. Drangoon came and crush her dreams back down into a fine pulp like they always did?

With a long sigh, Jane threw the test paper aside.  It swayed in the air for a while and landed square in a rain puddle left over from yesterday.  She was almost satisfied.

“Sometimes, I really wish something different would happen,” she said to herself.

She closed her eyes for a few minutes, following the sounds of crickets chirping until that became boring and she opened them again.  She was just in time to watch a gaping hole open up in the sky and bring about a wind that gathered all the fallen leaves into the air.  It was just another moment before Jane processed all this.

“Oh my God!”

She shot out of the lawn chair, dodging another bunch of leaves on her quest for cover.  She found it behind the tented barbeque, ducking her head down until her breathing back to something resembling normal.  In that time, the winds had only grown stronger.  It was a wonder Garrett hadn’t noticed anything and come outside yet.  Hell,  _nobody_  was coming to their windows from what Jane could see.  She dared to raise her head higher.  The hole appeared to have gotten bigger, though not by much.  It looked about a foot long in diameter, and it was completely black inside.  Not a single star penetrated its depths.

“A black hole…” Jane whispered in awe.

The sight was mesmerizing, completely doing away with any fear she might have had.  The winds, sudden as they were, weren’t strong enough to lift anything heavier than a twig.  Jane found herself moving out into the open and getting closer.

“This can’t be,” she said, raising a hand up like she could touch it if she wanted to.  “A black hole in Earth’s atmosphere?  That’s just- that’s not scientifically possible, right?” 

Jane looked around, as if expecting some expert scientists to appear out of nowhere and provide a helpful and informative explanation for what was going on and why it was, in fact, completely normal and reasonable.  When that didn’t happen, Jane found herself going to very strange places in her mind.  Her hands started to shake as endless possibilities came to her.  Whatever this thing was, it could potentially be the scientific find of the century.  It could be the key to humanity’s further advancement as a sentient species.  It could go down as one of the greatest mysteries in the history of the world, studied and theorized on for centuries to come.

And it was happening in her own backyard!

“I- I need to do something,” Jane rambled, and now that she was going, nothing was going to stop her.  “I have to tell someone, show someone.  I should tell Garrett.  I should go get him or- I should call the scientific community!  Are they in the phone book...?  What if it goes away before they can get here?!  I should take a picture, just in case.  Yes!  There we go!  Good idea!”

Jane turned on a heel and ran.  The wind was picking up, and with it, her excitement.  Her long hair splayed out behind her, getting leaves and twigs caught in its tresses that she’d have to pick out later when this was over.

“I should still have film in that throwaway camera Garrett got me,” she was saying.  “I just hope it’s still in my dresser.”

She made it as far as the back door when the wind abruptly stopped, and something heavy fell to the ground with a loud thud.  Jane paused with her hand on the door and turned around.  Dread filled her heart even before she saw the black hole close right back up and leave the sky pristine like it had never been there in the first place.  With Jane's amazing scientific find gone, there was nothing obstructing her view of the very common and well known Pegasus constellation, as if it was taunting her.

“But... I didn’t even get a picture…”

Her disappointment was interrupted by sound of groaning, and it definitely hadn’t come from her or Garrett inside.  In the middle of her yard now was a crumpled heap of something dark and long.  Whatever it was, it was moving.  It let out another groan, one that sounded distinctly more human than the first.  A hand shot out, clawing at the ground for leverage as it-  _he_  lifted himself up on his hands and knees.  Black hair fall over his face, covering it from Jane’s view, but she could still hear him.

“Ugh… Thor, what did you do now…?”

He looked up.  Jane met his bright green eyes that were like nothing she’d ever seen before.  They lit up his face somehow.  She could see his every feature even with the minimal lighting.  He was roughly her age, or at least he looked it.  He wore his black hair long and loose, letting it brush the tops of his shoulders.  His pale skin gave him an almost sickly look counteracted by the fullness of his face.  More intriguing than his looks, however, were his clothes.  They appeared to be all leather and metal and about ten different shades of black and green that Jane couldn’t name.  He was completely covered from head to toe and wore some kind of heavy coat over his armor.  He flexed his gloved fingers once or twice as he shared her gaze and her stunned silence.

What happened next was fast, t _oo_  fast in a way no normal human should be capable of.  The boy vanished from Jane’s sight in one moment, only to appear inches away from her the next.  He had her pressed against the wall with his hand over her mouth before she could react, and once her mind cleared, she easily recognized the sharpness of the knife held at her throat.

“Who are you?” the boy demanded.  His voice was gravely and far too mature sounding for someone his age.  “And where am I?”

Jane’s fight or flight instincts kicked in here, much much too late.  She squeaked against his hand, which he wouldn’t budge.  Any attempts to free herself were equally futile.  However skinny this guy looked, he had the strength of a freaking bear!

He leaned in much closer, very much like a predator about to devour her, his prey.

“I’ll allow you to speak,” he said, loosening the hand over her mouth just a little.  “And you will answer my questions truthfully, or else my blade will fly free and you will be dead before you hit the ground.   _Do you understand?”_

With great difficulty (mostly thanks to his hand blocking the majority of her airways), Jane nodded.  He released her mouth slowly, maintaining eye contact every step of the way.  He seemed to be sending her a silent message in case she was thinking about screaming.  ‘Don’t even  _think_  about it,’ it said.

 _‘Maybe I could just talk really loud so Garrett will hear and call the cops?’_ she thought desperately.

Somehow, that seemed like just as bad an idea as screaming.  When his hand was gone, Jane took a long and much needed breath and let it out without a sound. 

“Where am I?” the boy asked again.  “What realm is this?”

 _‘Realm?’_  Jane wondered.  What was that supposed to mean?  Falling out of a black hole must have messed with his circuiting or something.

“Uh…” Jane paused to swallow and get her thoughts straight.  “You’re uh… in New Mexico.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment.

“New Mexico,” he repeated, like the words were completely alien to him.

“Yeah, you know,” Jane said, even though it was becoming clear that he really didn’t.  “It’s a state.  A part of the USA.”

His face did not change.

“Uh…America?”

Nothing.

“…on planet Earth?”

She winced back, half expecting him to strike her for such a cheeky comment.  Of course they were on earth!  He knew that… right?

“Earth?  Are you taking about Midgard?" 

He sounded genuinely surprised.  It was very much a welcome change from the forceful intimidation he’d been laying on all this time, but Jane was never going to feel better until that knife of his was gone.  

Jane looked away, not at all knowing how to answer that one.  She’d heard that word used to describe Earth exactly once before: when she was seven and her Dad’s best friend, Erik Selvig, was telling her stories about the Gods and Goddesses his people used to worship.  Come to think about it, this boy sort of reminded her of one of them...

Without warning, he let her go. Jane gasped and held her throat, searching for any signs of cuts or scratches. There were none.  Now might’ve been a good time to start running, but she had a sinking suspicion he’d catch her before she could take one step.  God only knows what he’d do to her then.  For now, she was better off staying still and watching him circle the yard, glaring analytically at everything he saw.

“This can’t possibly be Midgard,” he said to himself.  He stopped in front of the tool shed, where a couple of Garrett’s barely used power tools were strewn about in the grass. He picked up a large saw, examining it briefly before tossing it aside.  “We were there not a month ago, and the Midgardians were living in mud huts!  They could barely start a fire on their own.  Not even Asgard could evolve so drastically in such a short amount of time.”

He picked up a couple more tools, always the most dangerous ones and always incorrectly.  Jane would have loved to tell him so before he hurt himself, but she wasn’t sure how any attempt at help would be received.  At least he’d put the knives away.  When he was finished, he threw aside Garrett’s belt sander and pointed at her.  Jane tried not to flinch.

“You are clearly lying,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What?” Jane said before she could stop herself.  Her fears were abated, however, when he merely waved her off and started for the fence.

“Enough, I will hear no more.  You are useless to me.”  He grabbed the fence with one hand and vaulted himself over like some kind of Olympic gymnast.  Without ever looking back, he disappeared into the darkness of her next door neighbor’s bush garden.

Jane was unmoving in front of the back door right up until it burst open, and she whirled around to come face to face with Garrett’s warm and confused brown eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Jane, what is going on?” he asked.  “Why are you just standing there?  Are you coming inside or not?”

Jane looked at him, and then at the patch of shadows the boy had disappeared into.  She looked at the spot in the sky where the black hole had appeared and spat him out.  Finally, she looked at the puddle where the sopping wet, ruined remains of her biology test lay forgotten.  It was starting to look really good in comparison. 

“Jane?”

She turned to Garrett and forced a smile.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she said, walking around him into the house.  “I’m feeling much better now, and I'm _really_  hungry.”

Garrett still seemed suspicious, but at the mention of food, his face lit up.  “Well, thank God for that, because I was about to start eating without you.”

He chuckled and went to get the pot out of the kitchen, while Jane took her usual seat at the dining room table, conveniently facing the window and the neighbor’s bushes, where in her mind, she could still see that strange boy running off to parts unknown, and she wondered:

_‘What the hell just happened?’_


	2. Real Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure when I'll be officially starting this series, but after five months, I felt like I needed to put something out so you all know I haven't abandoned this one.
> 
> This chapter does much better job of showcasing the plot than the last anyway. So I hope you enjoyed it!

Jane Foster woke up the next morning convinced that had all been a dream.

Well, not a really  _dream_  dream, more like a hallucination brought on by stress and anxiety. That test score was fresh in her mind even now, the dreaded 'B' grade hovering ominously over her next report card like a storm cloud. It was no wonder she'd cook up something so fantastic to get her mind off of it.

So what if she had heard the boy's voice and felt his hands on her like he was real, that didn't prove anything. She'd read one or two psychology books in her day and she recalled something related to vivid dreams and all the chemicals in the brain that caused them. She didn't even know why she'd been so freaked out last night when there was such an obvious and perfectly good explanation for it.

Jane got out of bed what that in mind. Sitting at the edge, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched.

"Good morning, Mom. Good morning, Dad," she said to the framed photograph on her nightstand. It showed her parents one their first wedding anniversary, just a few months away from her birth. Her mother's stomach was blown up like a balloon but she was all smiles, as her father held her close.

Getting dressed fast, she made it downstairs in record time, following the tempting aroma of freshly made breakfast. Her plate was already made when she got there, stacked with three pancakes and a side of bacon. Garrett was at the stove, eggs sizzling in the pan as he hummed to himself.

"Morning," Jane said, sitting down.

Garrett whirled around and Jane found herself face to face with a camera lens.

"Good morning!" Garrett boomed, shoving the blinking red light at her. "How's Mopey McMope today? Any early morning revelations to share?"

Jane glared at the camera. "First of all, I am not, nor was I at any point, moping. Second, why do you have the camera out at breakfast? This is  _crazy_ , Garrett!"

"This is  _art_ , Jane!" He tilted the camera up, presumably to get a better shot of her bedhead. "You just don't understand, you have a black and white, hard fact kind of mind. You're no artist like me."

Jane snorted. "I understand perfectly, thank you very much. And how did your oh-so-amazing artsy mind enjoy three years in a row of summer school?"

"Hmm, touché."

When his breakfast was cooked to his liking, he took out a plate. At least six steaming eggs were placed on the table across from her, but Garrett did not sit down. Jane made a face at the sight of them. She'd never liked eggs, not since that documentary about how they were laid. How Garrett could stomach them every single morning, she'd never know.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked. He was back at the counter, pulling bread, cheese and meat from the fridge.

"Just have to make lunch," he answered in a lofty voice. "Sadie and I are going to be out all day location scouting. It takes a lot out of you and we're gonna need our sustenance."

"So you're making ham sandwiches?"

"It's what Sadie asked for," he said while spreading mayonnaise over the bread.

"But isn't she a vegetarian? And Jewish?"

"She's not that devout. Plus, who am I to deny a pregnant woman her cravings?"

He packed the sandwiches neatly in a cooler along with a few drinks and plastic bags full of cookies, whistling all the while to some random favorite song of his that was probably going to wind up stuck in Jane's head later on. He slid to the table and his cooling breakfast.

"Okay, I had this brainstorm last night, tell me what you think."

Jane chewed her pancakes slowly, inwardly wondering why he always had to share his long winded creative ideas with her when she was supposedly just a 'black and white scientific mind.' And why did it always have to be when she was eating?

"The film opens on a wide angle shot of a mountain range or possibly a forest." Garrett spreads his arms out wide, his camera somehow staying firmly in his grip despite its considerable weight. "I think Sadie may have some unused footage from her and Doug's trip to the Appalachians that we can use. We have some calm new age-y music playing in the background as we pan across a huge tree covered forest! Cut to a bird- maybe a hawk or an eagle- taking flight and soaring towards the sunset, at which point the title credits fade in. What do you think?"

Jane, who has only been sort of listening as she tried to enjoy her food over Garrett's talking, shrugged a shoulder.

"Sounds okay."

 _"Okay?"_  Garrett demanded, as if she'd just laughed in his face and called it a terrible idea. "That's it? That's all you've got for me?"

Jane thought about that for a second. "Well, I guess it would be… expressive maybe? I mean, it is a little cliché, but-"

"Oh, what do you know about clichés?"

Garrett huffed and crossed his arms, puffing out his cheeks like an angry child, holding his breath until he got his favorite toy back.

"You're the one who wanted my opinion," she said.

Garrett clapped a hand to his forehead, sighing.

"Yes, and when will I ever learn?"

The answering bit of butter Jane flicked at his face stuck to his cheek and she giggled into the last bits of her pancakes as he washed it off.

"I'll just have to run it by Sadie later on," he said loudly to 'himself.' " _She_  understands my vision."

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure half the time she's just humoring you."

Garrett shot a glare in her direction, but there was nothing truly angry to it, there never was. He put down the camera to eat, much to Jane's relief. The red light still blinked steadily in the corner of her vision, and it was hard to ignore.

"Hope those pancakes are fluffy enough," he said in the middle of his eggs.

Jane tried not to look up. Garrett had a very unfortunate habit of talking with his mouth full. The results were never pretty.

"You should make them for yourself sometime," she said, careful not to lift her head even the slightest inch. There was only one thing in the world worse than watching Garrett eat, and that was watching Garrett eat  _eggs_.

"Can't. Takes too much time," he said with his mouth still full. Thankfully, he swallowed before going on. "And I like eggs better anyway. I don't know what your problem is."

"You're the one with the problem."

"I have no problems, Jane, everything is awesome for me," he said proudly. "I am a finalist in one of the most prestigious student film festivals this side of L.A. well on his way to becoming an acclaimed documentarian. Someday, I'll have a row of Oscars on the wall and a giant eight story mansion with a fully stocked kitchen and a swimming pool on the roof with twelve Italian pool boys to wait on me. If you're extra nice, I just might let you visit."

"Oooh, tempting," Jane said. "But are you really so sure you're going to win this? Because I talked to Sadie, and it sounds like the competition is pretty tough this year."

"Tough?" Garrett cried with great offense. "More like dreary. Do you know what the other two finalists are making their films about? Poverty in East Africa, and the effects of global warming on climate changes."

"Those are pretty important issues."

"Oh I'm not saying they're not, and I respect my fellow documentarians for their efforts in bringing them to light, but just think about it Jane. What if I decided to do my documentary on… I don't know- the AIDS epidemic. What do you have now at the student film festival? You have illness, death and the earth's eventual dissent into a giant fireball of doom. Who's not going to walk out of there scarred for life?

Garrett snatched up the camera again, holding it aloft and puffing out his chest like a great warrior.

"That's why my documentary is going to remind everyone that for all the sadness in this world, there is still joy to be found. Only the happiest, most uplifting stories will go into my film. Positivity or bust! In today's crazy, mixed up world, we all have to do our best to remember the sweeter times!"

He held the pose a second longer before rubbing his hands together in glee.

"Oh, and that's what I've decided to call it."

Jane blinked. "What?"

"The Sweeter Times," Garrett said in a huff. "It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Meh, kind of cheesy."

"Oh what do you know?"

Spinning around on his heel, Garrett grabbed the cooler and deposited his half eaten breakfast into the garbage. The plate went in the pre-prepared sink full of dishwater to be handled later. He gave Jane her daily noogie on his way to the door, and like always she responded with a laughing objection and a failed return swat as he ran out of her reach.

"By the way, do me a favor and stop at the market after school. There's this new recipe I want to try and I'm out of brown sugar."

"Okay, Garrett."

"And get some tomatoes too while you're at it."

"Got it."

Jane finished her pancakes without delay and ran to the door where her backpack awaited. Garrett had only just left and was walking across the lawn to his car. Jane would have bummed a ride, but the school building was only two blocks away and she could use the exercise. The fresh air would clear her mind too. She was still reeling from that dream of hers. It had felt so real…

Stepping outside, Jane saw a flash of neon yellow. A large poster board adorned the front window of the small, two story house she called home. ROOM FOR RENT was written in red block letters with 'Inquire inside,' scrawled at the bottom in fancy cursive.

"You're actually going to rent out the attic?"

"We need the money," Garrett said over the engine. "I can't just keep dipping into my savings."

Jane exchanged goodbyes with her cousin- after he made her recite the shopping list twice- and starts for school in the opposite direction that he drove off in. The wind in her face was soft and gentle, without the abrasiveness of that which she'd dreamed about, but all the reality. Jane shivered. She really needed to stop it with that stupid dream.

She closed her eyes and let the delicate breeze tangle with her hair. Another long day of high school awaited her, and with it, forty more minutes with sharp-tongued, squinty-eyed, cantankerous Mrs. Dragoon.

Wouldn't that be fun?

The one good thing about the school day was last period as far as Jane was concerned, and it really bothered her that she felt that way, because last period was study hall. Even if she spent it doing exactly that (and she always did), it made her feel like a slacker. She couldn't pay attention in her actual classes and only really got the material when she was doing it on her own. A 'lone wolf' her friends liked to call her. Jane could never figure out if they were teasing her or not.

Halfway through her American History homework, a stack of books slammed down in front of her, held by none other than her best friend, Alison Teggy. She was a very pretty girl with her white blond locks and grey eyes. She had a very lithe, 'faerie' look to her, thought her perchance for cutoff jeans and crop-tops didn't lend well to the image.

"Guess wha-at?" she asked in a sing-songy voice.

"I don't kno-ow," Jane answered in kind.

"Aw, you're no fun."

Alison giggled as she sat down, getting all the way into Jane's personal space. After a while of Jane not reacting, Alison sighed.

"Fine, be that way. I guess I just won't tell you my awesome news now."

"Too bad," said Jane.

Another few minutes passed.

"…okay fine, you broke me."

Jane rolled her eyes, stopping short as Alison grabbed her.

"So I have Intel that Gerry Hazeltine's parents are taking a week-long couple's cruise this Saturday," she said discreetly. "And you know what that means…"

"Party?" Jane asked without a care.

"Party!" Alison exclaimed with way too much of one. The librarian's assistant shot them a dirty look that neither girl cared to acknowledge. "It's going on this Saturday night. There'll be free drinks, hot guys, and maybe even a few rounds of seven minutes in heaven with some more lax rules."

Alison wiggled her eyebrows, something Jane had to resist laughing at. No need to encourage her.

"Are you really the same girl who was so nervous that she wet herself when Evan Crandall asked her out in seventh grade?"

Alison went through an instant changeover, going from cool to redder than a beat.

"I did no such thing," she said.

"Alison, I was there when it happened."

"Look, are you coming with me to the party or not? And don't say no because you always say that, and it's about time I stopped allowing it."

She playfully nuzzled her cheek to Jane's, purring like a cat. Jane's hair fell into her face, hopefully disguising her from prying eyes and gossiping voices. As much as she didn't care about those things, she  _really_  didn't need more people confusing her and Alison for a lesbian couple just because Alison was the 'touchy-feely' type.

"Well, I suppose if you're not going to give me a choice…"

A crash of fluttering pages and books had everyone paying attention to the mathematics section of the library for once. Out came a nebbish, bespectacled boy who could've come right out of a stereotypical teen drama, followed by the two bigger boys attempting to pour whipped cream down his pants. It had been a common scene as of late, right down to the bullies' hyena laughter and the incensed teacher screaming bloody murder at them.

"HORN! LACATA! How many times must you be told to leave Carlson alone?" she shouted. Her ruddy complexion was worsened by her anger. Jane half-expected her to start breathing fire. "Go to the main office right now! You are not getting off so easily this time!"

 _This time_ , they always said,  _this time_ those boys were going right out the door.

Well, as long as their wealthy parents remained at the head of the school board,  _this time_  was unlikely to come.

"Can you believe those guys?" Alison propped her chin up on her hands. Her eye twitched when the boys were led off to the principal's office for one more useless disciplinary hearing, and the second one stuck out his leg to trip their victim as he walked away. "Prancing around like they own the place, bullying all the new kids. You know, I've met that kid, Carlson. He's a nice guy, he doesn't deserve this."

"Nobody deserves it," Jane said into her book. "And don't let Horn or Lacata hear you describe them as 'prancing', or they might try to shave your head again."

Alison blanched. Clutching her scalp, she nearly uprooted an entire section of hair, recalling horrors from four years ago, when  _she_  was the new kid in school. In the time it took her to calm down, Jane finished her history work. Math would have to wait, as the time on the clock informed her that only five minutes of class time remained.

"I guess Carlson will have to hope that some other new kid shows up," Alison said on their way out.

"Or that Horn and Lacata lose interest in him," said Jane.

"Or that supernatural forces arrive to doll out godly vengeance upon them."

Jane laughed to herself and shook her head. Trust Alison to have all the crazy ideas.

Jane walked out of the local grocery store, bag in hand, but without any sort of accomplishment to go with it. It was a question for the ages, how the grocery store could be fully stocked of everything except the thing you needed most. The three tomatoes sitting alone in their bag made dull thumps against Jane's leg as she walked. She could see Garrett's face now, all pouty and depressed, the way he got when a soufflé fell in the oven or an opportune shot got rained out.

Though she had no watch, the sun told Jane all she needed to know. Garrett would be out of the house for another hour at most. Just enough time to get on the bus and go across town to the bigger grocery store, where they couldn't possibly have run out of brown sugar unless there was some malicious deity up there with an extra special dislike for her. Were it not for the lack of quarters in her pocket- or any other cash for that matter- she might have given it a try.

The cold air bounced off her winter coat, leaving but a mild chill in its wake. Whoever said that deserts could only be boiling hot needed to be dropped naked in one in October. In spite of this, there was an abundance of children running around the shopping center, wanting to see all the colorful Halloween decorations shops and restaurants were just starting to put up. Jane stopped to rest on a bench, absently counting the number of ghost and jack-o-lantern window stickers plastered all over the barber shop next door; seven of each. Inside, a man with a Mohawk looked to be getting a little off the top, but even that wasn't as interesting to Jane as the general people-watching she was usually too busy reading to enjoy.

Today, it was more of an excuse not to go home for a while. Not a good one either. This was really more Garrett's thing lately. He'd be on the lookout for a surprise marriage proposal or someone handing out food to the homeless. In the end, he'd just get another cop on his tail for illegally filming or something, but he'd still call it a fun day.

As Jane looked around, she didn't see anything memorable. A man was carrying two bulging bags out of a toy shop, doing some early Christmas shopping from the look of it. Another man was sitting at an outdoor café with a woman in haute couture fashions that Jane had never seen before in New Mexico. In the same café, a woman exited with a screaming infant in her arms that she was desperately trying to calm. Jane winced at the sound. The only louder voice was that of a shop owner up ahead, yelling at the top of his lungs at some kid he'd caught stealing. He was a big, beefy man in a bloody apron- perhaps a butcher. The thief, though his back was turned, didn't appear much older than Jane. He had tousled black hair and his clothes were black and bulky. They seemed more like some kind of armor…

Jane had a sudden sensation of being winded. She sucked in gulps of air, but no matter how much she took in, she still felt out of breath. She stumbled, falling short of squashing the tomatoes but landing right in a plot of dirt with a tree sapling. Jane picked herself up, not bothering to brush the dirt off the seat of her pants as she took off towards the scene. At the street corner, she stopped.

What the hell did she even think she was doing?

To the outsider, she was rushing to the assistance of a friend in need. In reality, she was about to approach the very same boy, who, in no short order: fell from the sky, threatened to kill her, implied that he was from another world, and then ran off to parts unknown. Now, he was stealing food and getting into trouble.

With all those many ingredients coming together to create a surefire disaster, what on earth could she do about it?

For that matter, why was he suddenly real and not just a figment of her imagination like he was supposed to be?

So many questions that would need answering, if Jane could first get out of the street and start walking far-  _very_  far in the other direction. It was obviously some sort of emotional backlash from their last encounter that had her getting closer now instead of farther. Close enough to hear them

"… good sir, I'll have you know…"

A crowd of magazine reading preteens walked by, their giggles drowning him out. Whatever he said had the butcher seething. Jane could literally see drool on his lips, but the boy was unmoved. His hands were behind his back, and unless Jane was seeing things, there was something long and triangular in his hand.

Jane's heart dropped into her stomach and went lower. She stopped thinking about it- the time for that was gone. She ran to his side and took his free hand, and the very first thing she could think to say was what came out of her mouth.

"Sweetie! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Her grin was wide enough to split her face down the middle, but only a fraction of a margin more painful than the intensity of his eyes. A tiny space existed between his lips, the closest to gawking he would ever get. Ignoring him proved difficult. There was a way he had about him that commanded attention. It was no surprise people were staring more at him than they were Jane or the butcher. Not even the blood soaked cleaver wielded by the latter could beat him, though as he pointed it Jane's way with his eyes narrowed down to slits, it was a close second.

"You know this guy?" he growled.

Jane swallowed, and thought for a moment that maybe it wasn't too late to pretend she'd made a mistake and run.

"W-well- of course I know my own boyfriend," she said loudly. "I'm so sorry if he's inconvenienced you, good sir."

"I just caught him trying to stealing twenty pounds of rib roast," said the butcher.

"Well you see, sir-  _twenty pounds of_ -" Jane could go no further. Her eyes bugged out at the boy, whose reaction added up to a slight curling of his lips, like he was going to smile and then changed his mind. Her eyes raked over his form, as rail thin as she remembered. He looked like a single pound would be too much for him, let alone twenty. "Uh… well, I'm very sorry. He's usually not like this, he's just a little ah… um…"

"Off his meds?" the butcher dryly supplied.

"Something like that," Jane said weakly. She coughed. "I- I'm glad you were able to catch him in time, before things could get any worse. I'm really  _really_  sorry about all this."

"He's the one who should be sorry!" the butcher cried. He jabbed the cleaver at the boy now, who seemed to be studying the blade, or else he was just bored with it. He was anything except pants-shittingly terrified the way people were supposed to be when someone stuck a knife in their face. "I had to take the meat back and I almost dropped it. You're just lucky I didn't, or not only would he be paying big bucks to replace it, but I'd have him arrested for stealing!"

"That won't be necessary, sir. I promise, it'll never happen again."

"It had better not!" shouted the butcher. "I don't want to see his face in my shop ever again, you hear me? Now get out of here! And get some better taste in men."

The butcher whirled his large body around and waddled into his shop. The door slammed shut behind him and the neon orange OPEN sign went dark.

Jane's relief was short-lived. Her hand was still very much tangled with his, and where she'd expected a limp hold was more like a piece of metal with skin attached. All thoughts of escape were hindered as last night replayed in her mind. He wasn't holding her now like he did then- with intent to kill, but there was still that knife at his back.

He examined her, like he had the butcher's cleaver. His face told her nothing of what he was thinking, but she couldn't imagine she reached whatever set of standards he was judging her by, not when his hold on her was getting tighter instead of looser. He pulled at her, bringing their faces inches apart.

It was a good time for Jane to do some reflecting on her most recent life decisions. If she had just walked away when she had the chance, she would be home right now, with nothing to worry about except disappointing Garrett with her lack of brown sugar. For her sacrifice, she'd receive an imminent kidnapping by a boy-who-couldn't-possibly-be-a-real-boy, best case scenario. Worst case scenario… he still hadn't put away that knife.

"You," his voice cut her like the blade of it would. "You're the girl from last night."

Jane furrowed her brow, though it was more the tone of his words that were bothering her than the words themselves.

"Well… you're the  _guy_  from last night."

For one fraction of a second he came closer, only to circumvent her and free her from his grasp. It was the powerful presence he exuded that kept her from moving now. No matter how much she wished it weren't so, her body had turned to stone and wouldn't budge. He seemed to have forgotten her, though. The way he paced, up and down and all around, like he needed five more pairs of eyes to see everything around him. Whenever he picked one direction, he always doubled back and took another, all the while his mouth was hard line.

"Hey, uh…" Jane waved a little, but his attention was diverted by whatever indecision was plaguing him. "What were you trying to do in there?"

He stopped short, turning his head slowly with a deep frown.

"What was I doing in a house full of meat?" he asked. "That's an excellent question. Perhaps I was looking for something to  _read_."

He went on his way, which consisted of a walk to the lamp post and back again. He settled into a path, pacing until Jane was dizzy from watching him, and still he kept going.

"Well you know, you're supposed to pay for food around here," Jane said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't know how it is wherever you're from-"

"Where  _I'm_  from, I don't even need to do this sort of labor," he snapped at her. "That's for the servants to handle."

Jane scowled. She really hadn't thought this guy could do more to alienate her, but boy had she been wrong.

"So why don't you go get them to do it?"

The question seemed to pierce the proverbial armor he wore around his physical set. He halted more inches ahead of her, looking out wistfully at something no one else could see. At least, that was what Jane thought. She was pretty sure it wasn't that old McDonalds, at any rate.

"I can't," he murmured, his lips barely moving.

"What do you mean, you _can't_?"

He exhaled harshly, turning away from her yet again. This time, Jane would not take that for an answer. The fear had left her, though there was still so much to be afraid of. She felt nothing in walking beside him except an odd sort of thrill that she was doing it at all. They left the butcher's shop behind, moving away from home and towards the old record shop she frequented with Garrett. Jane half-expected to see him there, stopped to pick up some new used vinyl for his collection. Would the sight of him relieve or frustrate her, she no longer knew.

"Hey," she said when the lack of answers started to get to her. "Are you listening to me?"

"Are you following me?" he answered in monotone.

He swerved sharply without changing direction, a poor attempt at shaking her off.

"Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot," said Jane. He walked a little faster from there, and it became apparent that her stubby legs were no match for his long ones. "I'm Jane Foster."

"Pleasure," he said.

Jane waited patiently for a time. People were talking over them, loud or soft depending on what part of the street they were on. Some kid was throwing a tantrum by the candy store, and Jane thought she heard his voice middling beneath the oppressive volume, but his lips never moved.

"Well?"

His eyes flicked to hers.

"Well, what?"

 _'He's screwing with me,'_  Jane thought, and as she thought it, a terrible clenching focused in her stomach, like a sign that all of her conversations with him would go much the same.

"What's your name?" she elaborated, though at this point, she was half a step away from throwing her hands up and making up a name for him. Maybe she'd call him Mork, since he'd come from the sky and all.

"Do you know not who I am?"

"Should I?" Jane asked warily.

The boy sighed hard, a venomous not-smile creeping along his features.

"I suppose not. In addition to the speedy advancements in civilization, your people seem to have rather suddenly forgotten us," he said, shaking his head. "I am Loki of Asgard, son of Odin All-Father and brother of Thor."

Jane blinked. "Okay. Just Loki would've been fine."

The boy- Loki- snorted derisively. As they walked on, they left the shopping center behind and entered an unfamiliar block lined with houses. Loki stopped short, his eyes on stalks over the long and narrow street. Jane followed his gaze, but couldn't muster the emotion to match his. If she had to guess, she'd say it was the identical look of all the twenty-something houses that was bothering him. If not that, there were the spruce trees, the boats in half the driveways or the kiddie toys strewn endlessly from the curb to the cul-de-sac. They must not have had any of that on whatever planet this guy was from.

He doubled back towards the shopping center, Jane hot on his trail. He looked back once or twice, clearly wondering why she was still following. Well, the jury was out on that one, because all Jane could think of to explain was that she wanted to keep him from stealing or trying to attack anyone else, as if she could actually stop him if he did.

"You know, if you're hungry…" Jane stopped. That it was a terrible idea to finish that sentence occurred to her before she started, but until she was midway through, she'd been numb to it.

She could see it now:  _'Oh, hi Garrett! How was your day? Find any good locations? Oh this guy? His name is Loki, and he fell out of a wormhole into our backyard yesterday and he likes to steal food and threaten to kill people, so I invited him to dinner! I hope that's alright…'_

Jane couldn't even picture his reaction, as Loki took advantage of her distraction and outpaced her. He was all the way up the street, threatening to be swallowed up in the crowd, when Jane came back to reality.

"Hey!"

It wasn't without a degree of windedness that she caught up with him, but Jane pressed on as the streetlights came on and engulfed them in yellowing light.

"Now what do you want?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Well- where do you think you're going, all on your own with no money?" she fired back.

"I don't need your help."

"Never said you did," Jane muttered out the corner of her mouth.

He turned his head sharply. "And yet you won't go away!"

"What happens if I do?" Jane was yelling, and people were staring, but from here, she could only get louder. "I leave you alone, you try to rob someone else, and then what? How do I know you won't start a massacre or something?"

He rolled his eyes petulantly. "That is not your concern, and anyway, what happened with that meat peddler was nothing more than an oversight on my part. I didn't realize how depleted my magic would be after my… journey here, but now that I do and know to pace myself, I will not make the same mistake twice. Is that all?"

"Not even close." Jane dug her feet into the ground, getting the feeling he might try to push her and wanting the illusion that she could stop him. "For one, there's no such thing as magic. For another, your black hole dropped you in my back yard last night and…"

The scenery of hurrying shoppers and energetic children melted away, like a canvas erased and then redrawn in milliseconds with an all new image, that of the suburban streets, as bereft of life as before. The one car that drove by did not swerve or honk, through there was no way the driver didn't see them appear out of nowhere.

Jane opened her mouth, but questions were the farthest thing from her mind as her school bag shifted involuntarily and made a low hissing noise in her ear. She looked, coming face to face with the long teeth and slithering tongue of the snake. She screamed bloody murder. Throwing the snake off, it morphed back into her plain, harmless blue bag mid-air. All of her books, papers and pens spilled out, the latter rolling into the street to an open sewer. Loki's outstretched hand came into view, glowing with inhuman green light that called them back, as if he were rewinding a video tape. The books slid inside over the pencils, the fastenings closing tight over her cargo. An invisible hand pulled the bag up and over her shoulder, the weight of it familiar, but not at all comforting.

"Wha- wha- wha- wha-" This must be what a broken record feels like.

Loki smirked proudly, and dangerously.

"To answer your question," he said. "That was magic. Anything else?"

The scene changed once more, back to the shopping center. Their arrival came without bells or whistles. People walked on by like they'd always been there, eyes sliding past the uninteresting sight of two kids with nothing better to do than loiter in public places.

"Well?" he asked.

Jane's head shook, a meaningless gesture except maybe to wake herself up from whatever insane dreamworld she'd found herself in. Clearly, she had fallen asleep last night in the yard and had yet to wake up. That, or she'd died of hypothermia, and this was all some kind of dying dream. She was definitely  _not_  in the company of a wizard- or whatever this guy was- well past the point of running away.

"That was magic," Jane said stupidly. "That… okay, but- hang on, I need a sec."

She turned away. It was easier to rein in her screams and do some deep breathing exercises without Loki's judgmental eyes on her. If she was really fortunate, he'd get tired of waiting and poof away forever.

"Do you need something for that?"

He voice was right in her ear, sending horrible chills all through her in her lack of preparedness.

"Idontneedanything," she ground out. After a little more not-screaming, Jane forced herself to look at him. "I just uh… well, obviously people around here can't do that."

"Of course not, you're Midgardians."

Something about that prompted a knee jerk reaction in Jane. His upturned nose at the café couple walking by hand in hand with lovey- dovey faces on wasn't helping.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Was I not clear enough? Shall I repeat it with smaller words?"

She hated the way he looked down at her, literally. He left no space between them so the only way their eyes could meet was if he looked straight down. He was only a half a head taller, but he made himself look so much bigger. Any second now, she'd be crushed under his shoes and he'd just laugh.

"I understand perfectly," Jane said.  _'That you're a jerk.'_

He smiled knowingly, filling Jane with a new kind of dread. Did he have mind reading powers too? Why was he looking at her like that?

"Now," he said, "have we established that I will not cause your people trouble in a way that meets your satisfaction, or shall I bring us to say… your North Pole for a while?"

He leaned over a lamp post, cool as could be. Jane wished she could stop staring at him, but something about that pose reminded her of something she'd been actively ignoring: this guy was hot. Too hot. Alison liked to say that the hot guys were all assholes, but Jane had never agreed so much. That no one was staring- for any reason at all- either meant that Jane's perception of attractiveness was warped, or it was more of that magic of his keeping people from wondering about that kid in the medieval armor teleporting all over the place.

"Well, magic or no magic, if you're going to be sticking around, you need something else to wear. You stick out like a sore thumb in that."

He glanced down at his armor. There were a few scratches on the left shoulder that Jane didn't ask about. She remembered what side he fell on last night.

"You also might want to try  _buying_  things instead of stealing them."

Loki snorted. "Really? I could acquiesce to your first demand, unless your people's fashions are as deplorable as I think they are. However, I am not certain that the currency I carry will be accepted here. Do you have any to spare?"

"No," Jane said bluntly. "And even if I did, you're not getting more than a dollar from me, Mr. Charity Case."

"I am a prince, you little twit. I do not need charity."

"Sure doesn't look that way on my end!" Jane heart was in her ears, her anger a turmoil in her stomach that left her unsure whether to scream or to laugh. "I don't know what kind of prince you are back wherever you come from, but around here, people work to get by. Money doesn't just magically appear when you need it!"

The convenience store they've been standing in front of burst open, and a man in skater gear with roller stakes on his backpack ran out, looking like both Chirstmas and his birthday had come early. A slip of white paper was clenched tight in his hand.

"DUDE! I JUST WON FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS! WHOOOO!"

He pulled a skateboard out of his backpack. Why he had that and the roller skates, Jane could only chalk up to a 'skater' thing. Away he went, gleeful like a madman, until his voice was but a whisper, and then not even that.

Jane didn't need to look at Loki to know the look on his face.

"That doesn't count," she said forcefully. "That's the lottery. No one actually wins that. It's all dumb luck."

But Loki was humming, a sing-song and condescending little hum when he might as well have just patted her head and told her to get home before she missed her bedtime.

"You know what? Whatever," she said, pushing one hand in his face to silence any and all rebuttal. "You want to steal things with magic and dress like the Black Knight? Do it. It's no skin off my nose. I don't even know you! You didn't land in my backyard last night. That was a dream, just a crazy, hypothermia induced fever dream, and I am either dead or laying in a coma somewhere waiting to wake up, so I'm just gonna go do that, and you have fun by yourself, dream person!"

Jane ranted all the way up the street and around the bend, long after Loki had disappeared from sight and home was in view.

**  
In true 'Garrett' fashion, he was less than bummed out about the lack of brown sugar. Within a few minutes, he had an old favorite recipe out, and Jane enjoyed a nice vegetable based dinner that night. There were absolutely no Loki related thoughts on her mind from then on.

Not a one.

Ever.

She wasn't thinking about him during school the next day either. She wasn't half-listening to the teachers and robotically copying down notes while waiting second by painstakingly slow moving second for the fire alarm to ring, because there'd been some huge unexplained explosion in town that killed a hundred people. Or a break out of all the zoo animals with a mysterious, unidentified young man leading them from the back of a lion. Or another black hole opening up to release a hellish army of living skeletons riding red eyed demon horses to enslave the earth. That was about the extent of Jane's creativity (Garrett would be so proud), but it was more than enough to keep her occupied all day long. At least it would have been, if she was thinking about Loki at all.

With each consecutive period, it got easier for her to tell herself that. Mrs. Drangoon, with her sullen eyes and ever so sunny disposition, handed back her last homework assignment with a big fat B minus for all the world to see. That it was apparently the highest grade of anyone in the class was a depressing consolation, and an all-consuming source of depression that followed her through the final bell.

"Oh Jaaa-aaane!" Alison sang at her from the bus as she walked by. "Don't forget about the party!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jane answered back with her nose in a book.

The living room window had a clean shine to it, newly cleansed of tape residue. Where the sign had gone was easy to explain, but Jane still waited a while to cross the lawn to the door, just to stare at it.

"He rented the room already?"

Truthfully, the idea of taking in a boarder was a little intimidating. She'd never been terribly good with strangers when she saw them on the streets. Living with one was a whole different animal that she might not be ready for, Garrett's many reassurances that she'd be fine aside. Nevertheless, she wouldn't get anywhere standing out in the rain.

Jane's key was useless to her as the door was unlocked, and if the minor irritation of having wasted two minutes fumbling around in her jacket pocket wasn't enough, going inside revealed Garrett to be in one of his 'moods.'

"GOOOOOOOOOD AFTERNOOOOOOON JANIIIIIIIE!"

"Wha-aaaAAH!"

The whole world was spinning, faster and faster, blending light and color into a nausea inducing mess. Something dark that didn't quite fit in with the rest resonated in weak bursts, but for the moment it was regaining her balance that was of the greatest concern.

"My apologies, darling cousin!" Garrett shouted jovially. "Today has been a most exceptional day!"

"Wow Garrett," Jane moaned, sliding boneless to the floor. "That's wonderful…"

"First, I found the absolute best spot to shot the opening scene of The Sweeter Times, it has the most incredible view of the sunset you have ever seen. You're gonna love it, Jane. After that,  _Roger_  called me. Can you believe it? I didn't answer it because that makes you look needy, but I'm definitely calling back tomorrow. And if that wasn't good enough, I come home and find the most perfect applicant for the attic bedroom who ever existed!"

He pushed his face into Jane's, as if that was necessary to make her understand the full extent of this new tenant's perfection. In reality, it just reminded Jane to put mouthwash on the next grocery list.

"Well, I'm glad everything is working out for you," she said, stepping back to enter the kitchen. "I can't say I've had the best day myseeee ** _oh God_**."

Jane's bag fell like deadweight off her arm, skimming her foot and big toe on the way down. At the kitchen table was the one who would be living with them for the foreseeable future. His hair was cleaner today and combed back. His clothes were modern, black jeans and a zipped up green and gold hoodie with a hint of a black shirt underneath. He was enjoying a bowl of Garrett's special potato bacon soup, which for once did not smell as delicious as it was supposed to. He looked up mid-way through a spoonful, his mouth spread into a grin that only Jane could see for the pure evil that it was.

"Good afternoon, Jane Foster," Loki said. "Garrett's told me so much about you."

It seemed that somewhere in the past three days, Jane's life had been shifted away from its ordinary course and thrown itself headfirst into the Twilight Zone. She was either going to end up in a straitjacket for raving about monsters on the wing of a plane, or taken away to be eaten by starving aliens. If not that, then something even craftier that only Loki could come up with. Though Jane had no idea how he was ever going to beat this.

"Uh, Garrett?" she reached around behind her for him and found his shirt collar. "Can I please talk to you? Alone?"

She pulled him into the hall before he could ask her why.

**  
"Garrett, what are you doing?" she hissed. There was no doubt in her mind that Loki could hear them (he could do everything else after all), but she tried to maintain some control over the volume regardless. "You just take in the first guy to show up at our doorstep without first making sure he's not a serial killer or something?"

"Jane, calm down," Garrett said, decidedly less emotionally charged than he should have been in Jane's opinion. "I'm not stupid you know, I saw Pacific Heights. Ignoring the fact that he's just a kid, I gave Loki a thorough interview before I let him sign the lease."

"And?"

Garrett shrugged. "And nothing. He seemed fine. He grew up with his mother in South Africa, was homeschooled, got emancipated a year and a half ago and decided to come to America while his mother is on a peace mission in the Sudan. He wanted a change of scenery, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Jane ground out. "And you don't know either. What makes you think any of that story is even remotely true?"

"Well, he had pictures."

From his jacket pocket, Garrett produced a stack of ten or so photographs, each depicting Loki at various ages, held by a golden haired woman with a kind face and a lovely, otherworldly style dress. It didn't look at all African, as far as Jane knew, but as she examined the photo from every possible angle- and all the others that came after- it didn't look at all photoshopped either.

"Fine, but what about identification? A birth certificate? Something!"

"He had it!" Out of the pocket now came folded up photocopies of various legal documents. "Birth certificate, green card, passport, it's all legit."

It killed Jane to admit it, but she could not disagree. Official seals and signatures abounded on each copy. Even if she saw the physical documents (assuming he really did have them), they would most assuredly look as real and undoctored as those damn pictures.

There had to be something, though.

"And… what about the payment?" she cried as it clear to her like a clap of inspiration. "He would need at least twice the rent for a deposit. You're telling me that some supposedly emancipated teenager had the money to pay it up?"

"Actually, he paid three years in advance."

"That doesn't make a difference Garrett! You shouldn't be taking the word of someone who… did you say  _three years in advance_?"

"Uh-huh." Garrett whipped out the check, the number written in crisp cursive making her jaw unhinge. Garrett snapped it in her face as he pulled her to him, cheek to cheek. "Now I want you to take a good long look at this check, Jane. Take in that endless line of zeros… and I want you to repeat after me…  _Disneyland_."

He snapped it one more time, laughing giddily to himself as he pranced back into the kitchen with a heaping bowl of potato soup on the brain.

It was a shame that Jane's appetite was so shot, because the few spoonfuls of soup that she could keep down were almost sinfully good. It made her wish, for once, that Aunt Diane had left Garrett a window washing set in her will instead of a cookbook. Loki was on his third bowl, something that had Garrett over the moon, as if he hadn't been already.

"Yeah you eat as much as you like," he said, ruffling Loki's hair as Jane's heart stopped. "You could use some meat on those bones!" He slapped Loki's arm and rubbing up and down twice, eyes going wide. "Then again, maybe not. Man, are you made of iron or something?"

Instead of ripping Garrett's throat out and burning the remains as per Jane's expectations, Loki smiled warmly and drank down the rest of his bowl.

"Now, I must insist that you have no more," Garrett said, taking the bowl away. "I still have the main course to finish up."

"I'm sure this meal will only grow in impeccability as long as you are the chef, Garrett," said Loki.

Garrett faked a dreamy sigh. "You are such a charmer, Loki. A couple years from now, all the girls will be flocking to you. And so will I. And so will Jane."

"No I won't," Jane called back dully.

He went off into the kitchen with a Stones song on his lips. With him but a shadow under the door, Jane swept aside the plates and silverware and slammed her hands on the bare table.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Loki raised an eyebrow and glanced around. "Obviously, I'm awaiting the rest of our dinner, and I must say, Jane, it's very rude of you not to clean your plate. Where I come from, that's considered an affront to the chef."

"Stop changing the subject! Where did you get those documents? And that check?"

He lowered his head, giving Jane perhaps the driest look she had ever been on the receiving end of.

"The bank," he said.

"And where did you get all that money?"

"The lottery," he smirked now, "and I must say, if picking out a sequence of five numbers for a drawing is what Midgardians count as 'impossible' you're even greater simpletons than I realized."

He sat back and would say no more. The kitchen door sprung open at that moment, allowing Garrett and the massive tray he carried entry into the room.

"I've got something very special for us tonight," he exclaimed. "And I have you to thank for it, Loki. Jane, you will never believe what Loki happened to have with him when he got here. It's the craziest coincidence!"

But it was beyond Jane to even consider it at that point. She would not be sleeping well tonight, which was a shame, because she needed about a month's worth to get over this. For now, she stared blankly at the opposite wall, not eating, not hearing Loki's silky and overwrought praising of the meal and not seeing the half full box of brown sugar Garrett waved in her face.


End file.
